Lima Asylum for the Menally Insane
by IzzyThatGleekPotterHead2019
Summary: Eight kids. Eight very different stories. One mental hospital. A lot of pent up rage. Klaine, Quinntana, Bram, Huntbastian. Rated T. TRIGGER WARNING! Based off an ongoing RP.


**A/N: Hello all! Izzy here back with a new story. Sorry my account's been kinda dead, my inspiration left but with this fic it has RETURNED biatches! This one is inspired by an ongoing RP me and three other people started. I'm putting the main points in here and then filling the other little minor things up as I go. If you ever wanna come down to our Chatzy room to RP with us, here's the link: 76629438208066 We need a Brittany, Finchel, and Huntbastian. As always, there is Klaine in this thing, also Quinntana, and TRIGGER WARNING FOR A BUNCH OF SHIT! Kay, continue, and enjoy. By the way, the different POVs all sort of go back to the beginning of the morning and what that particular character was doing or saying or thinking and that shit, so don't be confused. Also, be careful. Quinn bites.**

**Lima Asylum for the Mentally Insane**

**Day 1: Intro**

_**Santana's POV**_

_Why can't they just let me sleep? _Santana thought to herself as she trudged out of her room and into the common room. She didn't want to go to stupid group therapy; it hadn't helped her with her problems for the nine months she'd been stuck in here, so she really didn't see why she had to waste her time on it. She situated herself in one of the plush chairs and let out a long sigh. "Let's get this over with," she mumbled as she saw two boys walk out of their separate rooms, one that reminded her of a porcelain doll, and the other that sort of reminded her of a hobbit (or some similar small, adorable creature). She then looked up in surprise as a blonde girl was led out of a room, restraints wrapped tightly around her wrists. _Wonder what __**she's**__ in for?_ Santana wondered. Due to the random rotational that went on in the hospital, members of group therapy were always switched around, so Santana found it hard to keep track of all the people in her ward, though she knew she'd never seen any of these people before, especially the girl.

After everyone had gotten settled down, the therapist called Santana's name to start.

"I'm Santana, I have depression, my grandma hates me, what else is there to tell?" Santana asked, feeling the tiredness seep through her body. God, how she wanted to sleep.

She mostly tuned out the others, vaguely hearing the hobbit-like boy say something about PTSD and having been here for two years, and the porcelain doll boy distractedly mumbling out his disorder: OCD. But she didn't pay much attention until the blonde spoke up.

"I'm Fabray. I've got Dissociative Personality Disorder or what you peasants famously call 'Multiple personality disorder'. I've got three alters but stay the FUCK out of my way." the blonde let out a growl and lunged, causing Hobbit to curl up into a ball whimpering, Porcelain to scramble off the couch and move to the wall, tapping insistently at it, and Santana to stand up and back away so hard she knocked her chair over. "FUCKING SHIT!" she screamed as wardens moved to restrain Fabray.

_**Blaine's POV**_

"I don't wanna be around people though, they're scary," Blaine whimpered, looking up at the nurse who was, of course, trying to force him out of his room for group therapy.

"Just for thirty minutes, dear," the nurse sighed. Blaine was particularly difficult whenever they forced him to be around people; he was so nervous and antisocial around them.

Blaine sighed, knowing he would have to go willingly or else they'd force him. He stepped out of his room, making his way nervously to the common room where one girl was already waiting. He sat in one of the plush chairs, curling up into a small ball and peeking over his arms around the room. There was the Latino girl, him, and then a really cute looking boy so far for the group therapy session. But then, he saw wardens leading out a girl from an isolation room, restraints on her wrists, and shivered, hoping he didn't do anything to make her angry.

He listened carefully to Santana as she started group therapy off. Blaine always liked to know what disorder everyone had so that, if he actually had to socialize with them, he'd know what NOT to say to them. When the therapist called his name, he gulped, looking fearfully around him at the others.

"I-I'm Blaine. I've been here for two years, I have PTSD, I don't feel like talking anymore…" he trailed off, hiding behind his arms again nervously as he listened to the cute boy next to him. He was just starting to calm down a bit when suddenly the blonde girl spoke up

"I'm Fabray. I've got Dissociative Personality Disorder or what you peasants famously call 'Multiple personality disorder'. I've got three alters but stay the FUCK out of my way." she growled, and lunged at them.

Blaine whimpered, curling up into a tight ball as his breathing began to quicken. "Make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop!"

_**Kurt's POV**_

"But I have to clean first," Kurt insisted, reorganizing his entire room.

"It's time for group therapy, Kurt," the nurse repeated. "You can clean later."

Kurt sighed, straightening the covers of his bed once more before stepping out of his room, and down the hallway towards the common room.

As soon as he sat down in a chair, he began to count, tapping his fingers against the chair antsily.

He looked up, catching sight of three other patients in the room: a girl with long, dark hair, an adorable looking boy with curls who was curled up in his chair, and a blonde girl with restraints on her wrists.

Kurt was much too distracted with his counting to listen to the others talking about themselves, and glanced up distractedly at the therapist.

"Oh, uh..I-I'm Kurt, I have OCD..." he trailed off, starting to count again all the way from the beginning. _Just when I'd gotten to nineteen too,_ he thought with a sad sigh.

He looked up in terror when he heard the blonde's voice.

"I'm Fabray. I've got Dissociative Personality Disorder or what you peasants famously call 'Multiple personality disorder'. I've got three alters but stay the FUCK out of my way." she growled, lunging at them.

Kurt leaped up, rushing over to the wall and tapping repeatedly against it as his anxiety skyrocketed up.

_Oh my god! Who is this girl?_

_**Quinn's POV**_

Fabray was ushered out of her isolation room for group therapy. Yippee-fucking-yay. She just wanted to be left alone. She'd been in enough shit for today with being refused to be let outside the yard and all. Don't they know how suffocating it was inside her room? Fuck. She was led to the only free seat and they began, hearing the little sob stories. Then, all eyes went on her when the therapist had called her. She eyed the three other patients, none of which she could care less about. Faces and names didn't matter much. This is some bullshit.

"I'm Fabray. I've got Dissociative Personality Disorder or what you peasants famously call 'Multiple personality disorder'. I've got three alters but stay the FUCK out of my way." Fabray growled, liking how she could elicit fear in them. Perfect…Then she frowned when her wardens grabbed her and she roared, transitioning into Lion.

After a few minutes of struggling, yelling, kicking and screaming, Lion was pinned down her chair and the therapist approached her carefully.

"Gente…Gentle…you're okay…you're okay.." The therapist said and it took a few more minutes before Lion calmed down, "Can I talk to Quinn?"

Lion huffed and reluctantly nodded before she was gently sat down and was strapped down to the chair. Quinn fluttered her eyes open and looked up at the therapist.

_**General POV**_

With a struggle, Quinn managed to break through, pushing her other alters back into her head. "W-what happened?" she asked fearfully.

"Fabray and Lion visited, but that's about it. Care to make introductions?" the therapist asked her.

"Um…hi, I'm Quinn. You've met Fabray and Lion, there's also Lucy, but-well…let's just say you won't be seeing her around much," Quinn mumbled, looking around at the others, who were slowly beginning to calm down. "I'm sorry. Those two can be pretty intense sometimes. If it helps, I'm the main person, I guess."

"So, what? They're you or something?" Santana asked. "Don't…don't you hate them?"

"Well, I used to, but as my therapists have explained, I can't really hate myself for them or it'll get them even more riled up," Quinn shrugged.

Santana nodded. "That makes perfect sense actually."

"Alright, Santana, tell me how you became depressed in the first place," the therapist glanced at her.

"Seriously? I just went!" Santana sighed. "My grandma hates me, what more is there to tell?"

"Blaine?"

"That's personal and I don't want to talk about it," Blaine snapped.

"That's completely fine, Blaine. Well what about all of your hobbies and interests? Quinn?"

"I like to draw," Quinn mumbled, struggling against the straps pinning her to the chair. She hated the damn straitjacket with a passion. "I don't like, like, art therapy or anything. I just…like to draw.."

"Kurt?"

"Oh! Well…um…I like to clean my room, and sometimes, if I'm really good, they let me clean the rec room," Kurt smiled shyly.

"I like singing, and playing guitar, and writing songs," Blaine smiled tentatively.

"Maybe you could help out with music therapy, Blaine. Our volunteers are here every day," the therapist smiled.

"People actually _volunteer _to work here?" Santana asked, looking somewhat horrified.

"Oh yes Santana, mostly patients who have recovered and want to raise awareness about their mental disorder," the therapist replied.

"Oh," Santana mumbled. "I like puzzles, by the way. I used to do them all the time as a kid with my best friend."

"I'll see about getting some puzzles," the therapist nodded. "Alright, group therapy is dismissed. Off you go. Not you Quinn, you're a red flag so you need to go back to your room."

Quinn sighed as they unstrapped her and led her back to her room, wrist restraints still on.

"You guys wanna go to music therapy with me?" Blaine asked.

"I-sure. But I can't stay long," Kurt nodded. At exactly two-thirty he had to be back in his room to open and close all the drawers.

"Sure, why not. I've got nothing else to do," Santana shrugged.

"Great," Blaine smiled, gazing shyly at them before hopping off the chair, starting to make his way into the music room. Maybe people weren't quite so bad after all.

**A/N: So, I do check for typos and awkward inconsistencies, but in case I've missed one, leave me some constructive criticism anyway. Also, just plain old reviews are awesome too, no flames though cause Lion!Quinn will kill you if you flame. Hope you enjoyed, the next chapter will be out soon. Sorry if it was a bit slow, but this was literally all the four of us did on Day 1. Prepare for more drama and stuff as the chapters go on. Peace peoples!**


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